


Catch Feels, Not Covid-19

by Jenanigans1207



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Artist Keith, COVID-19, College AU, Coronavirus, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, i can't believe i'm writing a corona fic, i honestly can't believe it, oh my god they were roommates, quarantine au, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:01:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23435851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenanigans1207/pseuds/Jenanigans1207
Summary: “Well, there’s really only one option, then.” Lance says as he steps further into the room. At least he looks equally as uncomfortable as Keith feels. At least he seems to know he’s broken their boundaries.“Really?” Keith grinds out, but his anger is deflating. The stress of the situation is starting to wear on him and he just wants it to be over. “Because as far as I can tell, there arenooptions.”“You’ll just have to come home with me.” Lance says and Keith balks. He physicallyfeelsthe color drain from his face as he whips his head around to meet Lance’s blue eyes. He doesn’t even get the incredulous question off of his tongue before Lance is rushing on to explain. “My family visits Cuba every year at this time and since they closed the borders, they’re stuck there until this is over. So my home is completely empty which means there will be tons of room for you, too! And it’s only a couple of hours away, so we won’t risk getting caught anywhere in the middle.Andit’s free.”-- Or:The coronavirus shuts down Keith and Lance's college and Keith has no choice but to go into quarantine with Lance.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 141
Kudos: 583





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I both love and hate myself for the title of this fic. I also love and hate myself for the fact that I'm writing a coronavirus quarantine fic. I mentioned it jokingly on insta and everyone wanted me to do it, so here we are!
> 
> It's going to span 7 weeks, each chapter a week. I don't intend for this to be particularly long overall since this is just a fun side fic I want to write, so please don't put high expectations on this fic to be like any of my other chaptered fics!
> 
> I hope you guys are all staying safe and healthy in these crazy times and I hope this helps you laugh through it!!

**Week 1: The beginning**

The world was coming to an end.

At least, that’s how it seemed. And honestly, that wasn’t exactly _right_ , but it wasn’t really _wrong_ either. Keith tried not to contemplate this as he stood in the middle of his dorm room, half packed duffle bags scattered around the floor. Lance was standing in the doorway of their shared bathroom, eyebrows drawn together in concern.

“You’re… not going home?” Lance repeated slowly, as if he were having difficulty getting the idea to sink into his head.

“No,” Keith sighed. He was frustrated. Not at Lance, but at the situation in general. “My family is on the other side of the country and all flights have been cancelled. State borders are closing soon, too. I’d get stuck somewhere in the middle if I tried to drive home.”

“So…” Lance doesn’t budge from his spot in the door and it’s weird for Keith to see him there. They share a suite which means that they have separate rooms but a shared bathroom. They’ve managed to work it out so that they’re never in the bathroom at the same time which means that it’s essentially like living alone. “Where are you going to go?”

“If I had any idea,” Keith tries really hard to reign his temper in. It’s not Lance’s fault that the virus has started to spread out of control and bring the world as they know it to its knees. It’s not Lance’s fault, Keith reminds himself, even if Lance is currently the one pushing his buttons. “I'd already be there.”

Lance doesn’t budge from his spot in the doorway and Keith briefly wonders what the hell he even wants. They’ve been suite mates for the last year and a half and yet, they barely know each other. The most intimate thing Keith knew about Lance was that he used really fruity shampoo. Which, truthfully, sounds like an intimate thing to know. But Keith only knows that because Lance has taken up over half of their shower with his different products. Other than that, Keith doesn’t know a damn thing about Lance. He doesn’t know his major, doesn’t know what color his room is, doesn’t know _anything_. And honestly, he was fine to keep it that way.

And then the virus came in and threw the whole world upside down— starting with the destruction of the clear boundaries the two of them have abided by for the last year and a half. Now Lance isn’t even _just_ standing in his doorway, he’s crossing through it, stepping foot into Keith’s room. He’s existing in Keith’s space— existing in the place that Keith barely lets anyone else exist. 

Keith doesn’t have anything against Lance, though, truth be told. It’s hard to have something against someone you don’t even know. He’s just a quiet and solitary person and he values his space. He’s sure Lance is a nice guy— he _seems_ like a nice guy— it’s just that Keith isn’t particularly interested in friends. He’s interested in finishing his degree and getting on with his career. He’s interested in studying and getting perfect grades and he doesn’t have the time to be distracted by people like Lance, even if he is nice.

“Well, there’s really only one option, then.” Lance says as he steps further into the room. At least he looks equally as uncomfortable as Keith feels. At least he seems to _know_ he’s broken their boundaries.

“Really?” Keith grinds out, but his anger is deflating. The stress of the situation is starting to wear on him and he just wants it to be over. “Because as far as I can tell, there are _no_ options.”

“You’ll just have to come home with me.” Lance says and Keith balks. He physically _feels_ the color drain from his face as he whips his head around to meet Lance’s blue eyes. He doesn’t even get the incredulous question off of his tongue before Lance is rushing on to explain. “My family visits Cuba every year at this time and since they closed the borders, they’re stuck there until this is over. So my home is completely empty which means there will be tons of room for you, too! And it’s only a couple of hours away, so we won’t risk getting caught anywhere in the middle. _And_ it’s free.” 

Well… damn. Lance has pretty successfully cut off any objection Keith could raise to the idea. Other than the obvious idea of it just being wildly uncomfortable. But truthfully, what about this situation was going to be comfortable? It wasn’t going to be a great situation no matter where he ended up, honestly. Plus, even though he and Lance hadn’t _really_ lived together, they’d lived together for the last year and a half. At least they knew how to dance around each other and what to expect from one another.

“I—” Keith swallows. He feels unmoored. Up until this exact moment, the whole virus and the repercussions had been sort of an abstract idea to him— not quite affecting _his_ life. But suddenly, everything is crashing down around him and he’s acutely aware of the strange situation the world is in, the strange situation _he_ is in and he’s finally realizing that this isn’t about to end any time soon. “Are you sure?”

“Of course, man!” Lance says breezily, slapping Keith on the shoulder in a friendly gesture. Keith isn’t sure they’ve ever actually been close enough to touch before. “Absolutely, it’s no problem! Honestly, I have never stayed in the house alone and I really wasn’t looking forward to it so it’ll be a comfort to have you there.”

They lock eyes again and Keith realizes that even Lance’s eyes are kind. He takes a deep breath. He doesn’t like it, it makes him feel jittery and uneasy all the way to his core. He’s never actually lived with anyone— not in a way where they had a lot of common space. But Lance is right, it really is the only option and Keith can acknowledge that. So, with no better option, he agrees.

* * *

The drive to Lance’s family home isn’t bad, really. Keith doesn’t know what he expected when he finished loading his stuff in the car besides Lance’s— never having brought a car on campus himself, he is at Lance’s mercy— but it wasn’t, well, _this_ . Lance sings as he drives, one hand on the steering wheel and the other moving all about to the beat of whatever song they are currently listening to. Keith supposes it’s his attempt at dancing, though it’s hard to call any of the movements Lance makes _dancing_.

Keith, for his part, stares out the window for the first little bit of the ride. Their school and Lance’s home are both in the Midwest which means that a lot of their drive is rural farmland. It’s not unpleasant to look at, especially not when there are cows or horses, but it’s also not exciting enough to keep his attention for long. Eventually it drifts over to Lance who is smiling broadly as he sings, glancing occasionally at Keith with his eyebrows raised in invitation. Keith never takes it. He’s not a singer, ever. Not when he’s in the shower, not even when he’s alone in his room. He enjoys music, sure. But he doesn’t sing. 

What he _does_ do, though, is draw. It’s the one thing very few people know about him. His sketchbook is in his backpack which is jammed down by his feet since they’d filled the entire back of the car with other stuff. He considers pulling it out, but hesitates. There’s a reason almost nobody knows that he draws— it’s not something he advertises. That being said, he’s not ashamed of it, either, and he figures Lance is bound to find out in the duration of this quarantine. It’s his hobby to kill free time and, as far as he can tell, he’s about to have a lot of that. So, in the end, he decides to go for it. He tugs the sketchbook out of his backpack and flips it open in his lap, pencil gliding effortlessly over the paper. 

“You can draw while in the car?” Lance asks, glancing over.

Instinctively, Keith shifts so his sketch is less visible. “Yeah. I don’t get car sick.”

“That is a really useful talent.” Lance remarks, a distinctly impressed tone around the edges of his words. “I wish I didn’t.”

“Yeah, well,” Keith hesitates for a moment, taking in a breath before adding “My parents are divorced so I did a lot of traveling between households. So I guess I just developed an immunity to it.” 

“Oh,” Lance says, but it’s not the response Keith is used to. It’s not full of pity or discomfort. It doesn’t make Keith feel like he just murdered the conversation in a few words. “Well, I’m less jealous,” Lance teases, “but not completely un-jealous.”

“Un-jealous isn’t a word,” Keith points out.

“Did you know what i meant?” Lance retorts immediately, his smile never faltering even a little bit. When Keith gives a begrudging affirmation, Lance’s smile only grows. “Then it counts.”

“I understand gestures, too.” Keith bites back, but it’s friendly and he’s surprised to find that he really wants to laugh at Lance’s jokes. “But that doesn’t make them words.”

“You know what, Kogane?” Keith glances up from his sketch in time to see Lance flip him off with the hand that isn’t currently steering. They both laugh. “Did you understand that, or do you need me to explain it to you?”

“You’re the worst,” Keith ducks his head to hide his grin. “These weeks together are going to be torture.”

“ _You’re welcome_ ” Lance pretends to not have heard what Keith said. “For not only giving you a place to stay, but for also allowing you to be in my presence for so long. It’s a blessing I bestow upon very few people.”

“The worst,” Keith repeats as Lance goes back to singing loudly and definitely off key. He returns to his sketch, too, but the small smile doesn’t quite fade from his lips for the remainder of the drive.

* * *

Lance’s family’s home is gorgeous, even if it’s relatively unassuming. It backs up to the woods and the nearest neighbors are far enough away that Keith almost can’t see them. The yard is  _ huge _ and the house is a mixture of brick and stone. The gardens are well maintained and the place just  _ feels _ like a home from the moment they pull in the driveway. The inside is similar to the outside, well maintained but with little personal touches everywhere that make it more than just a house. There are pictures of Lance and his siblings displayed proudly on nearly every surface and something about it sends an ache to the depths of Keith’s heart.

Lance takes him on the tour of the house, showing him every room and explaining his room options to him as he goes. He tells Keith that he can have any room except his parents which is completely fair. That wasn’t a chance in hell that Keith was going to pick his parents room, anyways. In fact, Keith doesn’t feel particularly comfortable taking  _ anyone’s _ room and is just about to suggest that he sleeps on the couch when Lance gets to the last bedroom— the guest room. It’s an easy decision for him at that point.

“This will almost feel normal!” Lance says as he demonstrates that their two rooms are, once again, connected by a bathroom. The irony of the situation isn’t lost on Keith.

Keith thanks him, feeling a little uneasy as he sets his backpack down in what is going to be his bedroom for the foreseeable future. Lance isn’t a stranger, not by a long shot. If he were out to murder Keith, he would’ve done so by now. He’d had a year and a half’s worth of chances. Keith wasn’t worried about that. He wasn’t even worried about sharing the space with Lance because he had at least a little bit of a baseline experience with that. Mostly he was just uneasy at the entire situation. Keith was, by all accounts, a creature of habit. And his habits and routines had just been ripped right out from underneath him.

Of course, he can keep some of his habits. There’s nothing stopping him from getting up at the usual time and going for a morning run before class. There’s nothing that will force him to stay up later than he usually does. And his classes have been switched to online so he’ll have the regular structure of lecture times. All of this was some comfort to him, but there was still the underlying uncertainty, the knowledge that this was all happening because of a global pandemic that made it impossible to feel completely at ease.

Still, despite the slow, constant roiling in his gut, he went and helped Lance unload the car and unpacked all of his stuff at Lance’s insistence. It was the least he could do. Lance was being incredibly generous to Keith, especially given the fact that they’d only had a handful of conversations in the year and a half they’d been suitemates. Lance wanted him to feel like he was “at home” — something he said probably a hundred times in the first two hours they were in the house together. It was a nice thought, but there were only so many times it could be said before Keith wanted to tear his hair out as the words stopped sounding like real words anymore. Lance finally stopped saying it after he cooked dinner and they sat down on the couch together, eating while a movie droned on in the background. 

As the movie went on, Lance quoted the lines under his breath, pausing his bites to gasp or laugh at whatever was happening in the movie. He seemed so at ease, so calm with the whole thing. Keith knew Lance wasn’t taking it lightly— he sanitized everything they brought into the house and decreed that all clothes were to be washed tomorrow before anything could be worn— but he at least had the ability to  _ look _ like he wasn’t bothered by it. Keith wondered if he came off anywhere near as collected as Lance did. He supposed that was unlikely, but he couldn’t know for sure. 

“Didn’t know you were a romcom fan,” Keith teased as they headed into the kitchen.

“Really?” Lance smiled at him over his shoulder as he filled the sink with soapy water. “I love romcoms.”

“I know,” Keith laughed a little, hoping it would dissolve the tension from his shoulders. It didn’t work nearly as well as he wanted it to. “I was kidding. I can hear the movies you watch through our shared wall, you know.”

“Ah,” Lance draws out the word, “You’re welcome for allowing you to listen to such wonderful movies.”

Keith shakes his head as he hands his dishes to Lance, taking up the spot next to him with a towel, prepared to at least dry the dishes, even if he has no idea where they go after. “Sure, if  _ that’s _ what you want to call them.”

Lance splashed soapy water on him.

Finally, the movie ended and the dishes were done and Keith excused himself to his new room under the guise of being tired. And he  _ was _ tired, but he was also in need of some alone time to be able to recharge himself. He needed some time to try and let his life settle and to get used to these new circumstances. The only comfort he found was the knowledge that this was hard for everybody, not just him. He reminded himself of that as he fell asleep, the sound of Lance’s music through the walls a familiar comfort that he hadn’t ever really even noticed before tonight.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Week 1:**

The first few days of quarantine are like a weird weekend. It doesn’t quite feel like everything has fallen to shambles. It feels most like Keith has been given a slight break from school and has chosen to spend it at a friend’s house. And that’s more or less exactly what happened. Lance is bubbly and outgoing, something Keith has known about him from the day they met freshman year, both walking into their dorms with arms full of stuff at the same time. Lance had yelled a greeting at him from his own door, chattering on immediately about how excited he was that they’d be suitemates. 

Exuberance had always been a Lance trait and he had far more of it than anyone else Keith had ever met. So it wasn’t a surprise when Lance greeted him each morning with a huge smile and some breakfast already prepared. Honestly, it was really nice of him— not just the breakfast but the whole taking him home thing in general. The first day was a little uncertain and Keith felt uncomfortable venturing into any rooms other than his room, the bathroom, the family room and the kitchen. By the third day, though, he’d settled in considerably and felt more at ease.

It would never feel like his  _ home _ , he didn’t think, but it felt like he was allowed to live here and he was grateful for that. 

“Okay, on today’s agenda—” Lance marched into the entryway where Keith was staring out the front window, notepad in hand. He also tended to do that each day so far— create an agenda for what they needed to get done. It didn’t really do much for either of them, but Keith wouldn’t ever stop him. “We need to go to the grocery store.”

All of their classes had been switched to online but they hadn’t started quite yet. The school needed time to figure out how to switch the interface and to make a new lesson plan for each class given that they could no longer have one on one time with the teachers or hands on instruction. So, when the school had closed down on Tuesday, they had also cancelled classes for the remainder of the week, promising to start them up again on Monday. That was a big factor as to why Keith felt like he was on some sort of break and not hiding away to avoid some deadly virus that was tearing through the country. 

That also meant that right now, they had absolutely no responsibilities, nothing that they  _ needed _ to do. This was precisely why Lance’s agendas hadn’t done them any good— there wasn’t really anything to put on them. In the future it would include their school work, but Keith didn’t need Lance to tell him that he still had to do his homework. He’d always been the top of his class and he was acing every college course he was in. He knew what to do and how to do it. 

“I guess having food to eat does sound like a good idea,” Keith remarked dryly, not bothering to turn from his spot in the window. 

Lance’s neighbors across the street weren’t particularly interesting. There wasn’t anything distinctive in their yard and Lance liked to joke that in all the years his family had lived here, he had never met them. He had confessed to Keith on their first full day that he was moderately convinced that all of his neighbors were ghost neighbors because the garbage cans went in and out and  _ somebody _ got the mail, but he never saw people outside, never saw cars driving up and down the street, never noticed any movements in the windows. Keith had rolled his eyes but he did have to admit that their street was eerily quiet. He really  _ hadn’t  _ seen a single other person in the few days he’d been here and he was pretty sure quarantine didn’t literally lock you inside your house. They could all be out in their yards if they wanted to be, enjoying the warm weather that was coming with the break of spring. 

“I’m inclined to agree,” Lance took Keith’s jest in stride, tapping the pen against his chin as he thought. “I’m making a list. You’re welcome to come with me if you want, but you can also stay here and I’ll just pick up whatever you need.”

“No, I’ll come.” Keith finally glanced over his shoulder at Lance. This was the first time in three days that he’d seen Lance in something other than sweatpants. Not that he could blame him, Keith hadn’t changed out of sweats for a few days either. That’s what people do when they’re on vacation, he reasons, ignoring the fact that this still isn’t a vacation. “I’d like to get out of the house. Plus, I like exploring new towns.”

“Stir crazy already?” Lance teased, nudging Keith. “Hate to break it to ya, buddy, but we’ve got quite a while left of this. Hope you aren’t losing your mind already.”

Keith shoots Lance an unimpressed glance but it doesn’t stop Lance from smiling widely at his own joke. “Funny.”

“I know I am,” Lance laughs before gesturing to the pad of paper in his hand. “But really, I  _ am _ making a list. I put pop tarts on here for you, plus some Sunny D because I know you like that when you’re sick.”

“How on earth do you know what I like to drink when I’m sick?” Keith balks. The thing about it, though, is that Lance isn’t wrong. That  _ is _ his favorite drink for when he’s sick. And if he  _ does _ end up catching the coronavirus, it’ll be the only thing he wants to ingest for days, he’s sure. So having it in the house really is a good idea.

“I knew you didn’t remember!” Lance points a finger accusingly at Keith. “Last year, when you had the flu? I took care of you for nearly a week. Did all your grocery shopping and everything. I had to call your mom to figure out what it is you like because you couldn’t tell me.”

“Is  _ that _ why my mom always asks how you are when she calls?” Keith turns, incredulous, to face Lance. He honestly doesn’t remember a moment of this. He remembers being sick but in the vague sort of way that he  _ knows _ he was sick because he remembers coming out of it. He doesn’t really remember any of the time while he was actively sick.

“I knew I was her favorite,” Lance grins. “Such a nice woman.”

Keith shakes his head and leans back, propping his shoulder against the window. “You really took care of me while I was sick?”

“Yeah,” Lance’s smile turns a little sheepish and he finally glances away. “I’m really not surprised you don’t remember it, though. You had a killer fever, you were barely coherent.”

Again, Keith knows he  _ was _ sick, he remembers waking up on the day his fever broke, drenched in a pool of sweat with a throat that felt like it was being ripped out of his body. He remembers getting up and running to the bathroom to vomit, his body screaming as he went. He remembers that, but he doesn’t remember the days up to it— not clearly, anyways. He has weird flashes of moments that may or may not have happened that he’s always chalked up to being a fever-dream. It does make sense.

“Oh,” He replies dumbly, absolutely caught off guard by this information. “Well, thank you. I didn’t know that. Though I always  _ did _ wonder how Sunny D ended up in my mini fridge.”

That gets a chuckle out of Lance, “Don’t worry about it, man. Just know, if you catch the corona, you’re in good hands because I’m already well versed in taking care of your sick ass!”

“Well, if you get it, I guess you’re screwed, then.” Keith jests back and Lance’s smile falls immediately, getting a short bark of a laugh out of Keith. 

“Shit, you’re right!” But Lance is clearly teasing, his panic not even a little genuine. “I guess you’ll just have to figure it out as you go. Hope you’re a quick learner!”

Vaguely, Keith wonders if this is the sort of thing they shouldn’t be joking so casually about. This is a serious global pandemic and people are  _ dying _ . On the other hand, though, Keith figures that joking is okay as long as they still take the threat seriously.  _ Something _ has to lessen the tension. They won’t make it through this if they sit, locked inside Lance’s house, paralyzed by fear. If the joking keeps them sane, it can’t really be that bad.

“We’re both going to be fine,” Keith says, because he feels like he needs to. Because he feels like they need a reminder that this is still a serious situation. 

Lance’s expression sombers before he nods, “You’re right, we will be. Now get ready so we can go to the store. I want to go before anything else is completely sold out.”

Keith hasn’t been to the store since the outbreak started, but he’s heard the war stories. It sounds like every store  _ everywhere _ has been completely bought out of things like toilet paper and sanitizing wipes. Those, at least, he understands. He doesn’t condone the mass purchasing of items that everyone will need in these coming days, but he at least understands. The stories he  _ doesn’t _ understand are the ones of cake mixes being sold out and completely empty shelves of sugar. He’s not sure what quarantine activities other people have planned, but he’s certainly not intending to bake an army of cakes in his free time.

“Going, going.” Keith murmurs as he weaves his way back around to the stairs and ascends up to what is currently his room. He changes quickly, stopping in their shared bathroom to brush his teeth and attempt to tame his hair. It’s a relatively lost cause, but he gives it his best shot anyways. 

Once he’s ready, they hop back into Lance’s car and head to the store. Keith loves being the passenger in a car, able to look out the window and just observe everything they’re passing. It’s especially true in this case, since he’s never been to Lance’s hometown. But, despite the fact that he’s never been here before, he can still tell how quiet it is. There are hardly any other cars on the road and no people walking on the sidewalks. Parking lots are empty and Keith is starting to think that Lance’s whole  _ town _ is filled with ghosts, not just his neighborhood. 

The grocery store, at least, looks alive. It’s parking lot is still mostly empty, but not completely, and there are people pushing carts into and out of the store. For the first time in nearly five days, Keith is experiencing something that feels normal. It’s a relief and a comfort until they get into the store and see how many of the shelves are completely barren, not a single item left on them. They travel through the store together, Lance pushing a cart and Keith trailing behind him, practically dragging his jaw along the ground as he takes in the appearance of the store.

“Who’s mass buying perishable shit?” Keith asks as they make it all the way to the front of the store, having gone in the “secret” back entrance, as Lance put it. “People do know that it goes bad, right? You can’t hoard bananas and have them still be good when quarantine is over.”

“Did you know that you can freeze eggs?” Lance picks a carton of strawberries and places it into the cart.

Keith stops from where he’s looking at the pitiful remaining selection of bananas. “Bullshit.”

“I swear, it’s true!” Lance continues onwards and Keith simply swipes a bunch of bananas and rushes to catch up with him.

“You’re telling me that you just shove a carton of eggs in the freezer and then, what? Crack a frozen egg and toss it in a pan?” They pause at the end of one of the stands, waiting for people to finish their selections and get moving along so that they don’t have to break the six-foot rule.

“No,” Lance says as if it’s obvious when it is, in fact, not even a little bit obvious. “You crack them into an ice cube tray. And  _ then _ you freeze them.”

“That’s so much worse!” Keith cries. He drops his voice to a mocking tone, throwing his hands up in the air. “Let me just pop my ice cube egg into this pan. This can’t possibly go wrong or turn out disgusting!”

Lance practically throws his head back laughing. “I’m not saying we’re going to do it, I’m just saying it’s  _ possible _ .”

“You’re damn right we’re not going to do it,” Keith finally reigns his arms back in. “I won’t allow it! I don't’ care if it’s wasting food in the middle of a crisis, I’ll throw out every ice cube egg you try to make.”

“I’m not going to make any ice cube eggs,” Lance concedes before his grin sharpens and he glances at Keith over his shoulder as he heads towards the now free vegetables. “I’m just going to freeze milk instead.”

“What kind of awful heathen are you?” Keith nearly yells as he trails Lance down the aisleway. “I understand the world is in a state of chaos but this madness is just uncalled for and not at all proportionate to the times. We’re not so bad off that we need to freeze  _ milk _ .”

“Damn,” Lance snags some carrots and other vegetables, pausing to cross them off of his list. “I didn’t know you were so easy to rile up. This might be a fun few weeks.”

Keith huffs, crossing his arms and turning his head away. “You’re just speaking nonsense, anyone would be bothered.” When Lance just shoots him a teasing grin, Keith sends him a glare of his own back, stalking off to get his own groceries. “I’ll meet you in the drink aisle.”

He can hear Lance chuckling under his breath as he goes but it doesn’t bother him. He’s relieved, if anything, to see that it’s so easy to spend time around Lance. It would make for a ridiculously awkward three weeks if they couldn’t get along like this. 

A few minutes later they meet up a few aisles over—  _ not _ in the aisle Keith specified. Lance says he got distracted and moved on, but he looks a little guilty at least. Keith dumps the contents of his arms into the cart before grabbing what he needs from the snack aisle. Lance heads down it, yelling something about milk and ignoring the warning Keith gives him about buying extra milk to freeze. As Keith slowly trails his way down the aisle, scanning all the different options, his eyes snag on a familiar package: Lance’s favorite protein bars.

He only knows this because he sees the wrapper for them in their bathroom garbage can every day. As far as he can tell, Lance eats them as his breakfast on the way to class. Keith knows that Lance isn’t a huge morning person and only gets up at the last possible second. He snoozes his alarm at least three times every morning. Keith is always up, showered and packing his stuff before he finally hears Lance drag himself out of bed. And when he comes back at the end of his classes, there’s always a new protein bar wrapper in the garbage can. 

Keith watched Lance walk right past them, too preoccupied with the milk to realize that he was doing it. So, he snags two boxes of them off the shelf and adds them to the contents of his arms, continuing down the aisle and gathering the last of what he wants.

“Here,” Keith says as he reaches the cart again, showing the boxes of protein bars to Lance. “I grabbed these for you.”

“Oh!” Lance looks both delighted and surprised. “Thank you! I would’ve been really upset if I missed those. I must’ve just walked right by them.:

“You were preoccupied with the milk.” Keith says, scanning the cart to ensure that Lance only grabbed one carton of milk.

Lance, realizing what Keith is doing, holds up the carton that’s in his hand still. “Don’t worry, just the one. Nothing weird going on here.”

Keith shoots him a playfully suspicious glare, snagging the carton away from him. “Let’s get out of this area before you have a chance to change that,”

For the most part, they’re able to find everything else that they need. A lot of stuff is out of stock, as Keith expected, but it’s okay. They’re not doing some crazy, end-of-the-world shopping. They’re just shopping normally and throwing in a few extra things to have in the house in case either of them get sick. It’s nothing dramatic and Keith thinks that’s exactly why they’re able to get out of there with nearly everything on their list checked off. 

When they make it home, they split up the tasks. Keith is starting to get a grip on where everything goes, but he still doesn’t feel right just opening cupboards and putting stuff wherever. So, he brings the bags in and unpacks them on the counter and Lance is in charge of putting everything away. He wipes everything down before it goes away and Keith takes all the plastic bags and throws them away outside as soon as he can. They wipe the counter down after and then stand together in the kitchen to admire their handiwork. 

It’s a little too early for dinner but Lance apparently has big plans that will take awhile to cook. He insists that he doesn’t need help so Keith changes and takes to the trails in the woods behind the house that Lance had pointed out to him a few days ago. He explained that they were a loop, so getting lost was nearly impossible as long as Keith didn’t stray from the trail. 

Keith, really, isn’t a big fan of running. But the sun is high in the sky and there aren’t any clouds. He got some of his pent up energy out at the store but it was almost like a taste of a forbidden fruit, making him crave movement and time outdoors more than he was before. The run is nice and refreshing, exactly what he’s looking for. For about forty-five minutes, it’s just him and the trees, the sound of his breathing, the feeling of his feet pounding against the dirt.

He reminds himself that he can do this, he can make it through quarantine and come out the otherside with his sanity intact. He owes Lance a thank you, he knows, because he doesn’t think he’d be able to do it if it weren’t for Lance. Not only would he have gotten stuck somewhere random between here and his family, but he would’ve ended up completely alone. He and Lance might not have been best friends going into this, but there’s no arguing the fact that they’re going to come out pretty close. It’s pretty impossible to be locked up with someone for an indefinite amount of time and not come out closer than before.

Unless they murder each other first, but Keith doubts that. They’ve been getting on so well already, he can’t imagine it going the other way. 

His lungs burn as he finally reaches the trailhead again and almost stumbles to a stop, his legs quivering underneath him. He pauses, bracing a hand against one of the trees and just enjoys his surroundings. This break, this quarantine, had the potential to make or break him and it was up to him which one it did. If he used it for things like working on his art and taking consistent runs, he’d be fine. If he allowed himself to be pulled out at night to watch movies and play video games with Lance, it would be over in no time. But if he kept locking himself away, each day would feel like a week of its own. 

Keith glanced up, his eyes catching on Lance through the kitchen windows. He was close enough now that he could hear the faint beat of the music Lance was listening to and he could definitely see him dancing along to whatever song it was as he moved through the kitchen, chopping up different ingredients. It brought a smile to Keith’s face.

Feeling better than he has felt since the news of the quarantine broke, Keith straightened up, swiping the hem of his shirt across his forehead. His breath was still a little ragged as he trudged through the backyard and up into the garage of the house. He paused just outside, hand on the handle, allowing himself a moment to just absorb the feelings he has now and to remind himself that it’s his attitude that will carry him through this.

As he opens the door, he’s immediately hit with the scent of whatever Lance is cooking. Chicken is definitely part of it, but there’s a series of spices in there that he can’t quite identify. He kicks his shoes off, gently setting them on the shoe rack inside the door and trails into the kitchen.

“Smells great,” He remarks as he pauses in the doorway. 

Lance glances up at him, a faint tint of pink spreading over his cheeks, most likely at being caught in the middle of his dance. He turns down the volume of the music and smiles warmly at Keith. His smile matches perfectly with the flush in his cheeks and Keith is startled to realize that he thinks the two look cute together.

“Thanks,” Lance says, turning back to stirring the pot and taking away Keith’s view of his blush. “It should be done soon. And then we can quarantine and chill.”

“You have got to stop calling it that” Keith groans.

“I absolutely will not,” Lance smiles broadly, the tinge to his cheeks still there and somehow  _ more _ appealing now that Keith is seeing it for the second time. “Now hurry up and go shower, it should be done by the time you’re out.”

“Right,” Keith stands stock-still in the doorway, still caught off guard by his own thoughts and suddenly unsure what to do. They stare at each other for a very long moment before Keith finally realizes that the next move is definitely on him. “I’ll just… go do that,”

It’s lame and he knows it sounds that way, but he ignores it, hoping Lance will let it go, too, instead of teasing him about it. As he turns his back to head up the stairs, ready to take a shower and discard his sweaty clothes, he doesn’t notice the way Lance’s eyes linger on him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically just me venting about my own shopping experiences during this crisis!
> 
> I have no idea if you really CAN freeze eggs, that's something a patient told me. My reaction was similar to Keith's, so I haven't bothered to look up if it's real or not, but she definitely swore by it.


	3. Chapter 3

Online classes were both better and worse than they expected, somehow. The classes themselves— video conferences in which the professor can’t possibly keep track of all of them— are much lower stakes than Lance had expected. So if he maybe sleeps until a few minutes after his first class of the day has started… so what? He can pop in without any fuss and get away with it without the professor even noticing.

This part, he decides on the very first day, is nice.

The part that _isn’t_ nice, as it turns out, is the fact that now he has to teach himself much more than he was doing before. Part of that is his own fall for barely paying attention during lectures and for sleeping through half of them, but the other part of it is simply due to the fact that the curriculum wasn’t designed to be online. The professors, of course, have done everything they possibly could in this short amount of time to accommodate the change and honestly, the transition is smoother than Lance expects. But still, he gets of out multiple hours of class each day with loads of homework and self-study to do.

And yeah, he likes learning and he’s passionate about his chosen major, but his brain is fried enough after lectures. Having to teach himself the rest of the material is basically torture.

“I don’t even know what any of this says!” Lance cries, forlorn, laying his head on his open book in front of him. 

Keith sits across from him at the kitchen table, legs tucked up under him, laptop, notebook and textbook all open and scattered in front of him. He glances up at Lance, idly chewing on the clip of his pen. “Funny,” he replies dryly, “I always assumed you could read since they let you into college. I guess I shouldn’t have had that much faith in you.”

Lance wads up one of the sheets of notes he’d ripped out of his notebook and lobs it across the table at Keith who bats it away easily with his pen. Lance lets out another dramatic sigh, practically melting across the tabletop. “This is hopeless, my brain doesn’t work anymore!”

“Your brain hasn’t worked the entire time I’ve known you,” Keith jests, “and that hasn’t stopped you before.”

“Watch it, Kogane.” Lance warns. “Or next time it’s a textbook.”

“Are those tiny stick arms even strong enough to throw a textbook at me?” Keith teases and Lance jolts upright in his seat. The smug look on Keith’s face is enough to tell Lance that he’s just looking to get a rise out of him and that he succeeded.

With a huff, Lance crosses his arms and sits back in his seat, leveling a severe gaze on Keith who, to his credit, doesn’t buckle under it in the least. He just continues to look smug as he lowers his own gaze back to his textbook and begins writing some notes.

The two weeks they’d already been living together had gone exceptionally well, actually. Keith was a very courteous house guest, always cleaning up after himself and making sure he’d done everything he possibly could to help. He never complained when Lance cooked and he did the dishes and slept with no music on. They were already in a routine of who showered when form their time sharing a suite which made their situation even easier. 

At first, it had been a little awkward, the two of them trapped in the same space without that much to talk about. They had run into each other their fair share over the time they’d been suite mates, but they’d never officially hung out or anything. Lance had dipped his head into Keith’s room plenty of times when running to the store or library to see if there was anything he could pick up for Keith— continuing to ask every time, even though Keith always politely said no. Keith, for his part, dipped his head in Lance’s room from time to time when he needed something like batteries or noticed that Lance was listening to something different than usual.

That was something Lance had suspected about Keith for a while and their time sharing a house— which, really, was more intimate than sharing a suite— had confirmed it. Keith was _very_ observant. Lance would suddenly zone back in from thinking to see Keith’s eyes tracking the way he was tapping his pencil against the edge of his notebook idly. Keith always noted what Lance listened to before bed and would inquire if something was wrong if Lance ever switched it up unexpectedly. He’d even noticed the wrappers of Lance’s favorite protein bars in their bathroom garbage and remembered the name of them so that he was able to pick them up for Lance in the grocery store.

It strikes Lance as odd that he finds this habit endearing instead of unnerving. No matter what he does, he can always feel the weight of Keith’s gaze on him, tracking his movements and cataloging them somewhere in the back of his mind. But Lance is confident that Keith means no harm by it, instead using the information he gathers to try and be a bigger help to Lance— or whoever, Lance assumes— so he thinks it’s charming more than anything else.

“What are you working on?” Lance asks after a minute. 

Keith glances back up again, his eyes doing a quick sweep of Lance, pausing noticeable on his crossed arms. “Physics.”

Lance does his own survey of Keith, noticing for the first time that he has an earbud popped into one ear, clearly listening to something. “Shit, are you in class right now?”

For a moment, Keith looks confused. Then he seems to remember the earbud and pulls it out of his ear. “Oh, no. I’m just listening to some music while I work.”

“But you never listen to music.” Lance says automatically and it’s true— he’s never heard Keith’s music. Never through their shared walls, never while Keith was in the shower, not even when they were in the car together. 

That earns a wry smile from Keith. “I do.” He says, “I just listen to it at an acceptable volume so my neighbors don’t also have to hear it.”

“Once again,” Lance says, “You’re welcome.”

With a roll of his eyes, Keith pops the headphone back in and it occurs to Lance that he’s only using one headphone so that he’s able to listen to Lance if they start talking or Lance asks anything. It’s a surprisingly sweet gesture for being so small and Lance smiles to himself as he finally unfolds his limbs and sits back at the table properly.

He takes a second attempt at his notes, scanning the pages of his art history book and trying valiantly to absorb _any_ of the information on the page. It doesn't do much good. In truth, he doesn’t care about art history at all, but it was one of the gen eds he was forced to take to be able to graduate a “well-rounded” individual. 

Keith sighs, pulling the headphone out of his ear again and setting his pen down. “What?”

“What?” Lance repeats, startled.

“You’re moping.” Keith points across the table at Lance as if to illustrate his point.

“I am not,” Lance defends, but he knows it’s not true. He absolutely is moping and he’s not even trying to hide it. “Art history is just a stupid subject and they are assigning an unfair amount of work for a subject I guarantee _nobody_ cares about.”

“If nobody cared about it, they wouldn’t offer it as a class.” Keith reasons, but he looks a little amused at Lance’s dramatics. 

Lance huffs, shooting Keith a dirty look and making a point of turning back to his textbook. He doesn’t actually try reading any more of it, though, instead choosing to just stare at the picture of the painting he’s supposed to be learning about. He can’t focus on it, though, instead distracted by the weight of Keith’s gaze that remains on him. He knows Keith is just waiting for the moment he breaks, waiting for him to complain again, to throw his hands up in defeat. It’s certainly tempting, but Lance is stubborn.

“Stare all you want,” He says after a moment, “I’ll be too busy studying to notice.”

Keith lets out a short bark of laughter and leans back in his seat, his earbuds discarded on the table before him. “You’ve been staring blankly at the same spot for nearly a minute now. I don’t consider that studying.”

“Good thing I’m not graded on your opinion of studying then,” Lance glances up and his heart stutters in his chest for a moment. 

Keith is looking back at him, bangs falling into his face, longer pieces tangling a little with his eyelashes. It’s stupid how beautiful he looks and Lance can’t help but stare. If pressed, Lance wouldn’t say he has a _crush_ on Keith since they haven’t interacted _that_ many times in the year they were suite mates, but he was definitely interested. Keith had always been kind to him and he was the kind of quiet and reserved that made Lance want to know more. It was like Keith was always whispering and Lance was helpless to do anything but lean closer, desperate to hear anything he had to say. 

It certainly didn’t help that Keith was also attractive. Muscular, but not in a bulky way. And his dark eyes almost looked purple in the light sometimes, even though Lance knew that was impossible. There was just so much depth to them that Lance could look at them for hours and still not see every facet of them. He’d be willing to try, though. And, occasionally, when Keith had been drawing, he’d have these graphite smudges along his hand, cheeks or his nose. Lance never knew how they got there, but they were always adorable.

“Just study something else,” Keith says after a moment, startling Lance. “If you can’t focus on this, move to something else for now.”

Lance nearly jumps in his seat, realizing that he had just _definitely_ been caught staring. It takes his mind a long moment to catch up to what Keith had said and to then run through his mental catalog of all the things he needs to do for his classes still. Keith watches him quietly the whole time, a single eyebrow quirked in confused amusement.

“I have some chemistry work to do.” Lance finally manages to squeak out after a moment.

“Great,” Keith picks up a sticky note and places it in the crease of his book before flipping it shut and sliding it aside. “So do I.”

He leans down and pulls his backpack into his lap, pulling out a chemistry book that matches Lance’s. Lance had asked once about why he still uses his backpack when they don’t actually have to carry their books anywhere and Keith had said something about it helping him feel more organized. It made some sense, Lance supposed, but he had instead opted for leaving all of his books in piles either on the kitchen table or on the desk in his bedroom. 

The first few days of online classes, they had attended their lectures separately in their bedrooms, only coming together in the later half of the day to do homework. But as the days progressed, they had somehow switched to attending their lectures together at the kitchen table and using headphones so as not to disturb each other. That didn’t mean that they _never_ bothered each other, though. Keith, for his part, crumpled up his notes every time he made a mistake, lobbing the ball of paper across the table at Lance. Once he’d even managed to nail an unsuspecting Lance in the face. It didn’t hurt physically, but his ego was a little bruised. So Lance had taken to stretching his legs out under the table. So what if he _accidentally_ kicked Keith’s chair and nearly sent him toppling over backwards since Keith liked to balance his chair on the back two legs only?

“Oh my gosh,” Lance croons after a moment, “Are we about to study together? That’s so _romantic.”_

“We’ve been studying together all day.” Keith remarks, but there’s a little hint of pink to his cheeks and Lance loves it.

“We’ve been studying in the vicinity of each other,” Lance corrects. “This is the first time we’ll be studying _together_.”

“Just shut up and get over here, will you?” Keith kicks the chair to his left out from under the table, making it obvious that he intends for Lance to sit there. 

They’re not in the same lecture, but they are in the same chemistry class, meaning that they have the same assignments but just attend lectures on different days. All homework is due Sunday night, though, so they really can do their work together and turn it in at once. 

Lance snags his book off the table, grabbing his notebook as an afterthought and flipping his computer around so he’ll be able to use it in his new seat. “Can’t believe you’re making me move. _You_ could have come to _me_ , you know.”

“ _I_ am the only one who has been productive today.” Keith counters, sneering good-naturedly at Lance. “If I’m going to help _you_ be productive, I shouldn’t also have to be the one to move.”

“Lazy.” Lance murmurs and Keith kicks the chair as he goes to sit down. The chair doesn’t go far and Lance still lands on it, but much closer to the edge than he’d intended. He gives one of the elevated legs of Keith’s chair a whack in retaliation.

They settle into their new arrangement easily and Keith pulls out the assignment that he had printed off, surprising Lance by pulling out an extra copy and handing it to him. He doesn’t meet Lance’s gaze, his cheeks a little flushed again, as he hands it over and their fingers brush. Lance murmurs a thank you and Keith quietly stumbles over something that Lance can only assume is some sort of half explanation, but it’s too quiet for him to hear and he doesn’t press the issue.

Silence falls around them for a few minutes while they each start working on their assignment, the first few questions easy enough to get through. But as it gets deeper, more complex, Lance feels just as dejected as he did with his art history homework. Still, he tries to press on, glancing over at Keith for motivation. Keith glances over, immediately noticing the lull in Lance’s work and reaches across the space between them to scribble on the top of Lance’s notebook.

_Focus!_

Lance rolls his eyes, hastily adding _no_ right below Keith’s words.

With a roll of the eyes, Keith crosses out Lance’s _no_ and replaces it with: _yes. now!_

Lance pushes Keith’s hand away from the paper and turns back to his own notes. He scans across the periodic table that his book is open to, an idea striking him.

Quickly, he reaches across the table, snatching Keith’s notebook away from him and writing his own note slanted across the lines. _You must be made of uranium and iodine, because I can see U and I together._

When Lance pushes the notebook back across to Keith, he smiles smugly and waits for Keith’s reaction. Keith delivers, making a noise that’s somewhere between a snort and choking, coughing as he tries to collect himself. Lance laughs openly while Keith hunches over the notebook and writes something back.

But his laugh dies a little, replaced by a blush as he reads what Keith wrote in response. _Do you have 11 protons? Because you are sodium fine!_

This time Keith gets to look smug as Lance wracks his brain for something to say back to that, but nothing is coming.

“Okay,” He cedes after a moment, “I admit, I didn’t expect you to have your own chemistry puns.”

“Your fault for underestimating me.” Keith shrugs. “Now hurry up. Let’s finish this worksheet and then we can at least go for a walk.”

It’s enough to motivate Lance who finally manages to focus on the questions. Together they trudge their way through the rest of the worksheet, joking and shoving each other from time to time. By the time they’re done, Lance realizes it’s the most fun he’s ever had doing homework and he hopes that this becomes a new habit of theirs. Judging by the smile on Keith’ lips as he slips a hoodie over his head, tousling his hair out of his eyes while he waits for Lance to slip on his shoes, he thinks it will be. 

The cool air of the walk does more than just wake Lance back up, it helps tamp down the blush still dusting his cheeks. He thinks it works to cover up the blush on Keith’s cheeks, too.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys signed up for some pining Keith because that's what you're getting today!!

Week three of quarantine comes along quickly and before the two of them even realize it, they’re in a pretty solid routine. They wake up around the same time, coming downstairs to enjoy breakfast together before diving into their classes. From there, they study together for a few hours and then they usually break apart to do their own thing. Of course, they still bicker and antagonize each other, but it’s friendly and warm and honestly? Keith really enjoys it. 

He can’t honestly say what he was expecting when he’d agreed to come and stay at Lance’s house with him, but it certainly wasn’t this. It had been a desperate time— he was in  _ need  _ of somewhere to stay— and out of options. But now, a few weeks into  _ really  _ living together, Keith finds himself really thankful for the opportunity to live with Lance and to really get to know and understand him better. It starts to make him wonder why he hadn’t put this sort of effort into getting to know Lance when they were suitemantes and it gives him a lot of hope for what the future years of them sharing a suite will bring. 

As it turns out, Lance is actually pretty funny. Not that Keith would ever say that to his face. But he  _ does  _ laugh at Lance’s jokes, even begrudgingly, so he’s certain that Lance knows. He’s also unfailingly kind, still trying to bend over backwards to make Keith comfortable. No matter how many times Keith tells him that he doesn’t need to do anything, he’s already incredibly comfortable here, Lance is always keeping an eye on him to determine if there’s something more he can do to help. And, additionally, it turns out that Lance is really observant, providing things for Keith before Keith can even ask for them or get them himself. It’s interesting, feeling the question form on his tongue and having Lance already bolting out of his seat before the words even get past his lips. 

This is the train of thought Keith is following as he sits in front of his bedroom window, looking out into the backyard of the house below, sketchbook open in his lap. Lance is outside, the last few pieces of homework he has to do scattered around him on the deck table, sun slanting across his tanned skin as it starts to sink in the sky. The weather has been steadily warming up and Lance has been taking every chance to enjoy it. He has only a tank on, hoodie discarded across the table from him, exposing his shoulders to both the sun and to Keith. His hair almost looks golden in some places where it catches the sun. It’s a beautiful sight and Keith finds himself helpless to do anything other than try to capture it. 

Originally, he’d been planning on joining Lance outside and getting in some additional studying. It was Friday afternoon and he’d like to take the weekend off if he could pack in enough study time today. And then he’d looked out the window and seen Lance there, seen the way the sun kissed his shoulders and caressed his cheeks and he’d known that he wouldn’t be able to do it. He knew he’d get distracted every few seconds, glancing up at Lance and desperately wanting to capture that moment in time. At least, from his bedroom, Lance couldn’t see him staring, didn’t know what he was sketching. 

Typically, Keith prided himself on being really steady with his emotions. No, that’s probably not the right way to say it. He prided himself on knowing his emotions really well. That was much more accurate. His emotions and moods had the ability to shift drastically to any stimulus, but he was always capable of identifying how he felt and managing that so it didn’t get out of control. But with Lance, things were… different. 

Keith didn’t know  _ what  _ he felt when he was around Lance. He didn’t have any idea why his mouth went dry when Lance glanced up at him through the deck door, his blue eyes glinting in the light. He didn’t know why he was compelled to sit up in his room, staring at Lance from above and sketching his outline— hunched over the table, hair catching slightly in the breeze. He knew that he  _ wanted _ to remember the way he looked right then, but he didn’t know  _ why _ , didn’t know why he wanted to be able to look back at this drawing in the future. The thought tugged at him as he used his finger to smudge one of the lines he’d just drawn so it matched the scene he was looking down on more accurately.

Sometimes Keith thought back to the first time he and Lance had met, nearly slamming into each other as they both walked into their shared bathroom at the same time. Lance had startled, dropping the shampoo bottle he’d been holding and jumping so far back that he’d nearly ended up back in his door. He plastered himself to the doorframe, using it to hold himself up as he’d pointed an accusing finger at Keith and clutched the other hand over his heart, the conditioner bottle propped between his elbow and his chest.

“You scared the shit out of me, man.” He’d said raggedly.

Keith had startled too, but he hadn’t done any more than just slam on his brakes. “Sorry?”

It took a moment for Lance to gather himself, finally pressing back off of the doorframe and standing up correctly. “Well, this isn’t the way I intended to introduce myself to you, but uh, hey. I’m Lance.”

“How did you intend to introduce yourself to me?” Keith asked instead of introducing himself in response. 

“Well, it was going to be much more dazzling than this.” Lance leant down and snagged his shampoo bottle again, putting it back in his arm with his conditioner bottle. “I was thinking something like kicking your door in and striking a cool pose.”

“That sounds significantly worse than this, actually.” Keith replied, his eyebrows furrowing together. 

Lance laughed at that, setting his bottles down on the counter. “Does it?” He seemed to think for a moment before going, “What if I come over with cookies?”

“ _ That _ would be acceptable.” Keith moved to set his own few things down on the shelf in the shower. 

“Great!” Lance brightened considerably and his smile was almost infectious. “I’ll gather some cookies and stop by. And then you can actually introduce yourself to me, since you haven’t done that yet.”

Ah, caught. “I’m Keith.”

“Keith—” Lance echoed.

Keith had zoned out from his drawing, eyes unfocused on the window as he remembered the moment of their meeting. He hadn’t really thought twice about it then, but he seemed to be thinking about it a lot now that they were in this situation. It was funny, he realized as he  _ continued _ to think about it. Lance still said his name in the exact same way— sort of excited, a little awed, and definitely happy, like there was so much potential there. And maybe there  _ was  _ potential there, even if Keith couldn’t label what kind of potential. Maybe there had always been potential there, from the very first moment, and Keith had just begun opening his eyes to it. Something in him felt like that was the right one, like he should’ve been able to hear it the first time Lance said his name. It echoed in his head. Keith.  _ Keith _ .

“Keith!” 

The voice was loud and much too close. Keith startled, blinking a few times before whirling around in his chair to see Lance standing in his doorway instead of out on the deck below. He looked a little flushed— the color no doubt coming from the sun he’d been soaking up the last few hours— and Keith couldn’t take his eyes off of it. The slight pink made his tanned skin seem to glow and somehow, what Keith considered impossibly, Lance seemed even more alive than he had before. Like he, alone, was the source of all light and happiness. Like he was the  _ sun _ .. 

“What?” He said after a moment. What he’d wanted to say was ‘ _ you have freckles _ ’ because Lance  _ did _ have freckles popping out along his cheeks and the top of his shoulders. The sun had apparently coaxed them out of him and Keith didn’t know what to do with this information. 

“Jeez, man, what are you daydreaming so thoroughly about? I had to say your name like ten times to get your attention.” There wasn’t a bite to his words, but there was an undertone of  _ something _ there that gave Keith pause. 

“I wasn’t daydreaming.” Keith defended quickly. “I was, ah, just remembering something.”

“More like some _ one _ ,” Lance teased and Keith could feel himself flush a little. “Judging by the look on your face, at least.”

“Did you want something? Because otherwise you can leave.”  _ Leave, and take those stupid freckles with you. Leave, and stop accusing me of daydreaming about you, even if you were right. Leave, and give my poor heart a chance to figure out what’s going on.  _

“Okay, okay, got it.” Lance held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll stop talking about your obvious crush. I was just gonna go for a jog and wanted to see if you’d like to join me.”

Keith’s train of thought from before gives him pause before answering. He does still need to go for his run today, and there’s no actual reason for him to say no to Lance, but he’s also afraid that saying yes will put him in a situation that he doesn’t want to be in. And by that, he means a situation where he’s chasing behind a sweaty, shirtless Lance and trying to keep his thoughts in check. Because Lance does run shirtless. At least he has the last few days and today is just as warm, if not a little warmer, than the previous few days have been. 

But, he can’t explain that to Lance. So he goes back to having no real reason to say no. “Yeah, that’d be great. Just gimme a minute to change.”

“I’m timing you!” Lance hollers as he turns and heads back out of Keith’s room, presumably to his own to change. 

It does take Keith longer than a minute to change, but it somehow takes Lance even  _ longer _ to get ready, which is ridiculous. All he has to do is slide on a pair of basketball shorts and move on. Keith has to at least pick a matching shirt and he always ties the longer ends of his hair up in a ponytail before he runs. And somehow, he still ends up leaning against the wall in the hallway, scrolling through his running playlist and waiting for Lance to come out. He’s just popping his first earbud into his ear when Lance’s door finally flies open and Lance darts into the hallway, definitely shirtless.

Keith averts his eyes immediately, following Lance wordlessly out of the house and heading towards the trails in the backyard. They walk the first part of the trail, both stretching as they warm up and then Keith takes off without a word. Lance scrambles for a moment, throwing it into gear to catch up with Keith before falling in step with him perfectly. They jog like that for the length of the trail, music in each of their ears and exactly in stride with each other. 

When they finally reach the end of the trail, the halfway point, they both pause. Keith tugs one of his headphones out of his ear as he doubles over to try and catch his breath a little bit. Lance leans back against a tree, tilting his head back and closing his eyes against the sun that’s setting lower in the sky. Keith glances up at him and then pauses, nearly choking on his own saliva as he intakes a sharp breath through his teeth.

Lance’s eyes are still closed, his bare chest heaving as he takes in shallow breaths to try and level his heartrate out. He’s covered in sweat and Keith can’t stop himself from watching a bead of sweat as it rolls down the column of Lance’s neck, slipping over his collarbone and sliding down across his bare chest. Keith knows he’s staring, knows he shouldn’t be staring, but he can’t seem to stop. His breathing was already ragged from running and Keith is thankful for that because it means Lance shouldn’t notice the fact that he feels like he can’t suck in a breath around his suddenly dry throat.

“Phew!” Lance lifts his head off the tree, opening his eyes, and Keith snaps his gaze to the other side of the trail so fast he nearly gets whiplash. “That was a faster pace than I normally run so I’m pretty beat.”

“Yeah,” Keith agrees weakly, straightening up and rolling his shoulders to try and relieve some tension, his eyes still steadfastly focused on a tree in the distance and nowhere near Lance.

“I don’t know about you, man.” As a small mercy, Lance at least sounds totally oblivious to Keith’s struggle. “But I think I’m going to walk back. I’m not sure I can run it.”

“Yeah,” Keith says again, and then feels his face heat up in embarrassment as he realizes how ridiculous he sounds. He takes another breath and shoves all of his strange emotions down to the bottom of his stomach. “I was already thinking the same thing.”

“Oh, that’s great.” Lance lets out a relieved breath as he pushes the rest of his body off of the tree and starts to head back towards the start of the trail. “Because I was going to be really bitter if you ran all the way back.”

“Just because I’m walking back with you doesn’t mean I’m not better than you.” Keith remarks dryly and Lance glowers at him over his shoulder.

It takes a moment for Keith to get his own legs moving, but eventually he does. He trails behind Lance down the path, listening as Lance points out different areas and tells different stories of his childhood, committing them all to memory. He listenst as Lance laughs breathlessly at his own stupid jokes, as he gasps out loud when he almost trips over a tree root. He listens and he watches and he tells himself that he’s not going to go home and draw this as soon as he gets through the door.

Of course, he’s lying to himself and he knows it. Some moments are just too beautiful to be lost to time and this is one of them: Lance with the sun slanting across his sweaty skin, hair pushed away from his eyes, mouth stretched wide in a smile and surrounded by budding trees and flowers. Some moments just  _ need _ to be captured so that they can be relived over and over again and this, Keith knows with certainty, is one of them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I just updated, like, 16 hours ago but hey. I've been stressing myself out lately with having so many active WIPs and so I've decided to try and crank this one out and get it finished so that I have one less thing on my plate. Ideally I'll be finishing it this week so those last two chapters might be coming really soon.
> 
> I want to thank everyone for their love of this fic, though. I started it as a silly side project and then I struggled with it a lot so I was really surprised when it got such a warm response. So truly, thank you so much. You guys are, as always, the thing that makes writing so enjoyable for me <3

By the middle of the fourth week, Lance had pegged Keith’s sense of humor and it brought him a lot of joy. He’d figured out exactly how to make Keith laugh— begrudgingly, of course— and he loved it. He loved the way the startled smile would spread over Keith’s lips before he’d try and quickly turn his head away as if he could avoid Lance seeing his laugh. It was a quiet laugh, almost like he was laughing under his breath, but Lance could still hear it, could  _ feel _ the warmth and the fondness of it deep in his heart.

Also by this time, Lance had pinned Keith. Just, in general. He’d figured out who Keith really was— what he liked and disliked, the traits of his personality that he tried to hide, all of it. When they’d been sharing a suite, Lance had always thought of Keith as kind of closed off and reserved. Cute, but unobtainable. But now that they’d really been living together, spending time together and getting comfortable around each other, Lance knew that wasn’t true. Keith  _ was _ reserved until he got to know someone. Lance didn’t ask, but it seemed like a defense mechanism. And sometimes, when Lance would bring up his family, there’d be a moment where Keith looked profoundly sad for just the briefest of moments. At first, Lance had thought he’d imagined it. But then it happened again, and again, and Lance realized that it was there— Keith was just trying to pretend it wasn’t.

And that realization was when Lance had really felt like he’d gotten to the depths of Keith. He didn’t know what pain he harbored in his heart, but he knew it was there. And suddenly, his aloof attitude, the way he took awhile to warm up to Lance, all of it made sense. And now, Lance’s image of Keith wasn’t this cute but unobtainable boy that he interacted with on occasion and watched from afar. Now Keith was this sweet guy who was trying his best, despite whatever scars his past held. He was gentle, a good listener, caring. He tried his best to be anything but a burden to Lance and Lance didn’t know how to tell him that he could  _ never _ be a burden, that Lance was simply honored to be let this close to his heart.

“Oh!” Lance turned to look at Keith as an idea struck him from the depths of his thoughts. He was laying upside down on the couch, head hanging off the front and legs draped up and over the back, feet swinging behind the couch. Keith was sitting next to him, shooting his skeptical glances every time he shifted. “We should facetime my parents!”

Lance expected Keith to freeze next to him, put off by the mention of family like he usually was, but he didn’t. Instead, he nodded in agreement. “We should, I’d like to thank them for letting me stay here.”

“You never thanked me!” Lance cried, whacking the side of Keith’s leg.

Keith swatted his hand away, fixing Lance with an unimpressed gaze. “I thanked you, like  _ five _ times. You can’t have possibly forgotten.”

“I know, I was kidding.” Lance started at the sudden somber expression on Keith’s face and shifted so he could see Keith a little easier without sitting up. 

It looked like there was a storm cloud over Keith’s expression— dark and uneasy. He was looking down into his lap and Lance could feel the war he was having with himself before he finally spoke. “Thank you, though. Seriously. Not just for taking me in, even though that was incredibly kind of you, but for being my friend. I—” He hesitated, his hands curling into loose fists in his lap. “I don’t tend to have close friends.”

In any other situation, Lance would mouth off something like ‘ _ yeah, because being your friend is a nightmare!’ _ but he could tell that this wasn’t the time for jokes. And that  _ was  _ a joke. Being Keith’s friend was anything  _ but  _ a nightmare. It was very rewarding and Lance counted himself lucky every morning when he got to plop down next to Keith at the kitchen table, plate of food already waiting for him. 

“Keith,” Lance said instead, trying to catch Keith’s gaze. “I don’t know what happened in your past or who hurt you,” a small flinch to tell Lance that he hit the nail right on the head. “But I’m not going to do that to you, okay? I’m not going to hurt you or walk out on you or do whatever it is you’re afraid of me doing.”

Wow, good one, Lance. Trying to reassure Keith had turned into something that almost resembled a love confession. 

Suddenly Lance is glad that he wasn’t able to catch Keith’s eye because the moment feels really intimate and Lance knows he’s steadily growing redder and redder as the silence continues to stretch between them. Sure, he had one of those distant crushes on Keith when they were at school. The kind of crush that was more of an interest and a desire to know him more. The kind of crush where he’d pop into Lance’s mind and Lance would wonder what he was like. And yeah, fine, it had turned into an actual concrete crush in the last three and a half weeks, but Lance didn’t actually intend to  _ tell Keith about it _ . Or, at the very least, he didn’t intend to do it like  _ that _ .

Lance is moments away from spluttering out some excuse, rambling on to fill the now painful silence, when Keith finally speaks up. He glances over and meets Lance’s eyes for the briefest of moments, his voice a hoarse sort of whisper that speaks of real and raw emotions and Lance has the breath knocked right out of his lungs. “I know you won’t.” Keith rasps, “But it’s hard not to be afraid. Especially when I really, really don’t want to lose you.”

Immediately, Lance is torn between fighting every person in Keith’s past who has hurt him and made him sound this soulfully  _ sad _ and kissing him straight on the lips, over and over again until the sadness goes away. Both are tempting options, but neither are exactly feasible. There’s no saying that a kiss won’t be met with a fist to the jaw and normally, Lance is down for a little risk-taking. But they still have to live together for an unspecified amount of time and ruining the really great balance they have going on and then being forced to spend all day every day with him after that sounds like Lance’s personal hell. 

“Listen,” Lance tries to lighten the mood because if he doesn’t, he’s going to be crushed under this weight in his chest. This weight, that feels really similar to that almost-love-confession Lance just gave. “You can’t get rid of me. I’m  _ really  _ annoying and I’m around for the long haul.”

“You got the annoying part right,” Keith relents, and then he huffs out that quiet laugh under his breath and Lance knows that it’s okay. He likes to think that he made at least a little dent in the hole in Keith’s heart, even.

Finally, Lance flips around, nearly kicking Keith in the face and having Keith shove him and nearly push him off the couch in self defense. Once Lance is up and situated, which takes a minute as the blood in his head settles back to how it should be, Lance snags his phone off of the coffee table in front of him. “Okay, quick call to my family and then it’s time for more quarantine and chill.”

“Stop calling it that!” Keith groans, rolling his head back onto the couch. “It’s so stupid.”

“Three weeks in and you haven’t worn me down yet, Kogane.” Lance nudges Keith’s knee with his own, shooting him a smile that only grows wider when he sees Keith smiling a little back at him. “Now shut up, I’m calling my parents!”

Lance unlocks his phone and clicks into facetime with expert fluidity. He didn’t tell his parents that he was going to be calling, but they’re in the same time zone so they’ve likely just finished dinner and are looking for something to do with the rest of their evening which makes it the perfect time to call. His parents answer on the second ring, their smiles huge and exuberant as they greet Lance and then pass him around so the rest of the family can say hi. Lance talks to everyone briefly before settling back in with his parents. 

They chat a little before Lance finally introduces Keith. Keith sneaks hesitantly into the frame, waving as he greets Lance’s parents and thanking them for their hospitality and their kindness. They, of course, assure him that it’s no big deal, that they’re happy he’s there and keeping Lance company.

“And out of trouble!” His mom chimes in and both of his parents laugh.

Keith shoots Lance a sidelong glance and there’s something so fond in it that Lance feels his heart ache in his chest. He spends the remainder of the call just trying to keep his heart from splitting open, to stop the feelings from dragging him away in a tidal wave. Finally they bid goodbye to Lance’s family and hang up and Lance thinks he might just be able to take in a full breath again.

He’s wrong, though, because Keith is looking at him with this soft expression, a ghost of a smile on his lips and Lance gets ever closer to the edge than he was before. “Your family is so kind.” He says, “Just like you.”

“Yeah,” Lance agrees, but he can hear that he’s choked up in his own voice. Whatever comment he was going to make about how Keith can’t be their favorite kid dies on his tongue. Lance stands up abruptly, swiping the remote off the table and tossing it to Keith as he heads into the kitchen. “You pick a movie! I’ll be back with popcorn!”

If Keith notices anything weird about Lance and his behavior, he doesn’t say and Lance is thankful for it. He grips the edge of the counter top, bowing his head and taking deep breaths while the popcorn cooks, trying to pull himself back together. He’s had crushes before and usually, he’s very suave, thank you very much. He’s usually really good at wooing them, at getting them to swoon, to feel special. But something about Keith is different. This isn’t some shallow connection, something that could be fun for a few months. The longer they spend together the more Lance realizes that their relationship is deep, genuine and really raw, but in a good way.

But also in a terrifying way.

This thing with Keith, whatever it really is underneath it all, has more significance than anything Lance has ever shared with anyone else. This is the real deal and the severity of Lance’s feelings— and his comical inability to deal with them— make that painfully obvious.

The microwave beeps and Lance snags the popcorn out, carefully opening the bag to avoid the steam and dumping it in a bowl before returning to Keith. The movie is up and paused on the screen as Keith watches Lance enter the room again. Lance hands him the bowl of popcorn before moving back towards the doorway to turn off the lights. Then he joins Keith on the couch and they fall into their usual routine.

Lance comments the entire way through the movie, pointing out things and yelling at the characters. Keith shakes his head fondly, occasionally voicing his own comment. They eat the popcorn together, their fingers occasionally brushing as they reach in the bowl at the same time. And it just figures that this would be a scene out of a goddamn movie, Lance thinks bitterly, because he was already struggling under the weight of his feelings. But feeling the spark that comes whenever their fingers brush and then feeling Keith nudge him playfully makes it nearly impossible for Lance to even  _ breathe _ .

They finish the popcorn with more than half the movie left and Keith discards the bowl on the table in front of them. Lance tries to focus on the movie, tries really,  _ really  _ hard to pay attention but all he can think about is how close Keith is and how, somehow, he’s still not close enough. So, in a moment of boldness, with his heart in his throat and his pulse  _ roaring _ , Lance stretches out and drops his head into Keith’s lap as he lays down across the couch. 

There’s a very long, painful moment where Lance wonders if he’s about to get his ass kicked— rightfully, of course— but he doesn’t. It takes the length of three heartbeats— which is  _ not  _ long, given how fast Lance’s heart is beating— before Keith settles one hand onto his back and the other into his hair. And holy shit, this is absolute bliss. Lance curls a hand around Keith’s thigh, tucking his fingers in between his legs gently and closes his eyes, just enjoying the feeling.

He still listens to the movie, far too awake to fall asleep in a situation like this, and makes comments as they go, but he keeps his eyes closed. He’s terrified that he’ll open them and find out that this moment isn’t real. That it’s a pillow he feels resting comfortably against his waist, not Keith’s hand. Keith makes comments as they continue to watch the movie, too, only ever drawing his hands away from Lance to take a sip of his drink. But, every time, as soon as he puts his drink back on the table, his hands find their way to Lance again.

And Lance knows they need to talk about it. He knows he shouldn’t have gotten away with this the way he did, and that he needs to know more about Keith’s reaction. He knows all of this but he’s not willing to ruin the moment, so he shelves his questions and vows to have that conversation with Keith another day. And when the movie ends, they disentangle themselves without saying a word, cleaning up their mess and heading to bed. It’s only in the hallway outside their rooms that they pause, eyes seeking each other. There’s so much there, behind Keith’s eyes, so many emotions. 

  
Lance reaches out and takes one of Keith’s hands and Keith lets him, squeezing back when Lance squeezes first. And then, the moment breaks. Keith offers him a smile and one more squeeze before gently drawing his hand back and heading into his room and Lance goes to bed, unable to sleep because his reality is suddenly just  _ too good _ to let go of. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I'm just saying, you guys should come join me on instagram! It has extra content (short ficlets that I won't post on here and original content!!) and is just a place I'm super active. I'd really love to see you guys there! :) you can find me under jenanigans1207 there as well <3


	6. Chapter 6

It had been five days since Lance had spontaneously pillowed his head in Keith’s lap during their movie and Keith couldn’t stop thinking about it. He couldn’t stop thinking about how soft Lance’s hair was as he’d idly threaded his fingers through it, how comforting it was just to feel the rise and fall of Lance’s chest as he’d breathed deeply and evenly, clearly both comfortable and content with the situation. It had been, well,  _ shocking _ when Lance had done that, but entirely welcomed. And honestly, Keith didn’t really remember anything about the movie, but he remembered everything about Lance. 

The only problem with the entire situation was that they hadn’t talked about it. Not even a little, not even a few words of it. Besides the fact that Lance was now flirting with Keith pretty openly and much more comfortable with physical touch, there was absolutely no indication that it had happened at all. Keith didn’t mind the flirting and the touches, not even a little bit— even if he still didn’t have any idea how to deal with it— but he didn’t like the way they were pretending that it hadn’t happened. 

It wasn’t Lance’s fault, though. At least, it wasn’t  _ solely _ Lance’s fault. Keith easily could have brought it up anywhere in the last five days, but he chickened out any time he considered it. He’d bared a part of his heart to Lance that day, talking about how he didn’t want to lose Lance. And, even though Lance had assured him that he couldn’t be pushed away, Keith was afraid. 

“This test is going to be a nightmare.” Lance groaned, laying his head on the table next to his laptop. 

Keith glanced over at him, his pencil idle above his own page of untouched notes. “You’re going to do fine. You’ve been studying hard.”

“Yeah! I’ve been studying like crazy and I still feel like I don’t understand anything.” Lance buried his head in his crossed arms so that Keith couldn’t see his face.

It was a fact that Lance had been studying hard the last few days for this test and Keith really did believe in him completely. But he also understood Lance’s stress. Online classes were a very unique experience where it was hard to feel confident in any learning. The teachers did their best to be available to answer questions but it was just impossible to replicate the same feeling that came with in person learning. So even though Keith was confident that Lance would do fine, he could understand how Lance  _ wasn’t _ confident. 

“I think you’ll be surprised.” Keith laid a hand on Lance’s shoulder, seeing the way the tension seemed to decrease visibly in Lance. “You have all the info in your head, it’ll come out when you need it.”

“But what if I  _ don’t  _ have that info?” Lance whined again, turning his head so his cheek was resting on his arms and he was looking at Keith again.

“It’s not like you’ve got anything else up there competing for the space,” Keith teased, laughing a little when Lance huffed and pulled away from his touch. 

“I thought you were trying to make me feel better, not be a jerk.” Lance turned to rest on his other cheek, pointedly ignoring Keith.

“I  _ did _ make you feel better.” Keith countered and he knew he was right. “Now quit moping, I’m making us lunch.”

With a resigned sigh, Lance straightened up in his seat a little, propping his elbow on the table now and his chin into his hand. He still looked defeated, but less so, and Keith was fine with that. He withdrew his hand from Lance’s shoulder and moved across the kitchen to start pulling out ingredients. He wasn’t a terrible cook, but this wasn’t the time for something elaborate. Lance needed something warm and comforting to help make him feel better and Keith knew exactly what to make. It was his favorite food when he needed any sort of comfort, too.

He was halfway through buttering his last piece of bread when Lance let out another sigh and slumped back in his chair completely. “Is food ready yet?”

“It’s been less than five minutes. How fast do you think I can cook?” Keith finished buttering the bread and reached to turn the stove on, prepared to craft his masterpiece.

“What are you even making?” A quick glance of his shoulder told Keith that Lance was still resigned to his fate, eyes closed and head leaning well over the back of the chair. Sometimes Keith worried about Lance’s neck with all the weird angles the guy rested his head. 

Turning back to the food before him, Keith answered as he began assembling. “Grilled turkey and cheese.”

“That sounds….” Lance trailed off.

“Delicious.” Keith supplied for him. “It’s brain food, too! Protein from the turkey and warm gooey goodness from the cheese.”

“Who are you and what did you do with Keith?” Lance accused, sitting up and looking at him. When Keith just shot him a glare, Lance pressed on. “The Keith I know would never use the phrase  _ warm gooey goodness _ .”

“I was trying to put it into terms you’d understand.” Keith countered and Lance barked out a laugh. 

“You’re an idiot.” Lance murmured fondly.

Keith watched the sandwich in front of him, lifting the corner up every-so-slightly to check and see how well cooked the other side was. When he was met with a perfect golden brown, he slipped the spatula underneath and flipped it with expert ease. “An idiot who is making you an amazing lunch.” He said before taking a page from Lance’s book and adding a dramatic, “ _ You’re welcome _ .”

“Less talking.” Lance began clearing the spot in front of him, stacking his books and notebook off to the side and pushing his computer away from his spot. “More feeding.”

With a roll of the eyes, Keith plated Lance’s sandwich, using the spatula to cut it into four triangles. “Here you go, your highness.” He remarked as he crossed the room and handed the plate to Lance. 

“I could get used to this!” Lance took the plate happily, looking down at the sandwich on it. Keith could tell by the smile on his face that he thought it looked good and that made Keith happy. 

Keith crossed back to the stove, assembling his own sandwich in the pan. While the first side cooked, he fished into the fridge, pulling out a can of pop for each of them. With a quick  _ head’s up _ , he tossed one can across the room at Lance who snagged it out of the air with ease. Keith popped his own drink open and sipped at it while he waited for his sandwich to cook, trying his hardest to not think about how stupidly domestic this moment was. 

Finally his food finished too and he joined Lance back at the table. Lance was already three-quarters through his own sandwich, smiling brightly. They ate silently, but comfortably. Keith looked out the windows onto the deck, noting for the first time just how green everything was outside. Spring was spreading its roots and really taking hold and it was a beautiful sight. 

“I think I’m gonna spend all day just sitting on the deck.” Keith said after a moment, earning a whine from Lance.

“You’re just bragging because you don’t have a test.” Lance accused.

Keith shot him a grin. “You bet I am.”

“I’ll only forgive you because that lunch really was delicious.” Lance stood from his spot and snagged his plate off the table, carrying it over to put it in the dishwasher. “Thank you for that.”

Keith stayed put, still eating the second half of his own sandwich. His eyes trailed Lance as he moved around the kitchen, the word  _ domestic _ still fighting for a spot in the forefront of his mind. “You’ve got this, McClain. Just take a deep breath, you’ll be fine.”

Lance stopped where he was, between the counter and the table. He braced his hands back on the counter, leaning into them and looking every bit as nervous as Keith imagined him to feel. “Words are just words, Kogane.” There was a little bit of a challenge to Lance’s voice and Keith wondered where this was heading. “But unless you intend to actually give me some good luck, they don’t matter.”

It only took a quick glance for Keith to see that Lance was gripping the counter so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. “What are you saying?”

A split second before Lance got the words out of his mouth, Keith realized that the nerves he was clearly seeing in Lance weren’t nerves about his test. Or at least, they weren’t  _ only _ about his test. He was nervous about whatever he was about to say. “I’m  _ saying _ that words won’t give me luck.” An inhale, they’re both holding their breath, Keith has no idea what’s about to come. “But a kiss will.”

“A good luck kiss?” Keith echoed, his voice surprisingly steady considering the fact that he was absolutely unraveling in his seat. 

“Yeah.” Lance swallowed, his grip on the counter just as tight as ever. “Haven’t you heard of that before?”

“As a matter of fact.” Keith set his last triangle of sandwich down on his plate, standing from his seat and crossing the room to stand in front of Lance. “I have.”

Before Lance can say anything, before either of them can suck in an unsteady breath or chicken out, Keith places a hand gently along the side of Lance’s neck, thumb just brushing along his jawline, and pulled him into a kiss. It started out just as gentle as his touch, a whisper of a sensation across his lips, the hint of a promise. And then Lance was reaching back for him, pulling him closer, and it was no longer a kiss but a  _ kiss _ , and Keith was quickly losing himself in it.

It hadn’t taken him long to figure out what the mysterious feelings in his gut were, even if he didn’t like it. But Lance had dragged him through enough romcoms throughout the month they’d already spent together in quarantine that Keith knew all the telltales signs of a crush. So yeah, he’d figured out pretty quickly that he had a crush on Lance. He hadn’t intended to do anything about said crush, but who is going to say no when the person they like directly asks them for a kiss?

Keith pulls back after a moment and Lance chases his lips, kissing him softly a few more times before he allows Keith to finally put any amount of distance between them. And even then, it’s not much.

“Kiss me again.” Lance says, his voice breathy and Keith feels his stomach flip.

“You have a test to take.” He replies, realizing that his own voice is a little ragged. 

Lance groans, dropping his head down onto Keith’s shoulder. “I didn’t think I could hate that test any more but I was so wrong.”

Keith laughs lightly, pushing Lance’s shoulders gently to create that space between them again. Lance meets his gaze, blue eyes pleading but they won’t work on Keith. “Take your test. If you get above a 90, you can have another kiss.”

“And if I get below a 90?” The anxiety in Lance’s voice is palpable.

“Well, then you better study hard for your next test.” Lance opens his mouth to protest but Keith shuts him up with one more lingering kiss, pulling away and whispering “good luck” before shoving Lance towards his things, his meaning clear.

Lance huffs but he collects his computer and heads up to his room. They’d agreed to always take their tests separately to help them focus and not put pressure on each other to avoid anything that could be considered distracting. So Lance slinked away, glancing back at Keith at the bottom of the stairs. Keith simply shot him a smile before returning to his sandwich, out of Keith’s line of sight. 

It takes a long moment for Keith to really register what just happened. He sits down at the table, picks up his sandwich and resumes eating like nothing happened. It’s not until he’s two bites away from finishing it that his mind stops reeling and he truly realizes that he just kissed Lance. That Lance  _ asked _ to be kissed. The true weight of it settles on his shoulders so quickly he nearly chokes on his bite of sandwich, coughing and chugging his drink to try and clear his throat enough to get a breath in. 

He doesn’t need a mirror to know that his face must be eighteen shades of red. 

He’s not sorry about it, though. Not even a little bit. And how could he be? Lance had chased his lips, kissing him even after he’d pulled away. Lance had asked him for the kiss. It wasn’t like he had to wonder or worry about how Lance was feeling about this entire thing. More than anything, what he needed to do was accept the fact that his feelings were, apparently, returned. 

Keith did the dishes, music playing quietly from his phone, replaying all of the last few weeks in his mind and trying to pinpoint just when things had switched. He didn’t know the exact moment that his crush had developed, didn’t know when it’s gone from interest into actual romantic feelings, and even playing it all through in his head couldn’t seem to give an exact moment. Things with Lance had gone far more smoothly than Keith had ever expected that they could and their closeness seemed inevitable. It was like there was no other way this could have gone, no way he could’ve weathered this without Lance, no way they could’ve ended up not falling for each other. 

“Holy shit,” Keith murmurs as he finishes washing his dishes and putting them away. “I’m actually… thankful for this virus.”

It sounds stupid and selfish to say and Keith knows that, he does. He acknowledges that so many people are suffering, that people have lost their loved ones. He  _ knows _ that he shouldn’t say something like that. But in his own tiny bubble, in just  _ his _ personal life, the virus worked out for him. It forced him into a situation he  _ never _ would have ended up in otherwise, and it gave him the chance to really connect with Lance. He can’t put it into words, the way he and Lance seem to be drawn to each other, but he knows that it’s powerful. 

Keith tries to push these thoughts aside, snagging his sketchbook out of his backpack and moving out onto the deck. For the time being, all he can do is try to focus on something else. He and Lance can talk about it once Lance finishes his exam. Until then, he just needs to survive. And it seems hard to do, honestly. His nerves feel alive, like a livewire, making him feel jittery. He suddenly has the urge to pace, or to go for a jog, to do  _ something _ to get all of his energy out.

In the end, he doesn’t do any of those things. Pacing isn’t really his thing and he’s afraid of being gone on a jog when Lance finishes his exam. He’s not willing to waste any extra time, to not be here the moment Lance comes back down. Instead, he settles into a seat on the deck and flips his sketchbook open, doodling whatever his mind feels like calling up.

It’s no real surprise that his mind wants him to draw Lance.

He’s probably halfway through the sketch of Lance sprawled out on the couch the wrong way when he hears the deck door slide open. Keith startles, flipping his sketchbook shut immediately and turns to face Lance.

Lance, for his part, marches out onto the deck with his laptop in his hands. He leans over Keith’s shoulder to set it down in front of him, square on top of Keith’s now closed sketchbook, pointing at the screen triumphantly. “98!”

Keith turns to smile up at him, “See? I told you that you could do it!”

“I’m not here for congratulations, Kogane.” Lance replies playfully, tugging on Keith’s chair so that he can access Keith better. “I don’t give two shits about my grade right now.”

“Then what  _ are _ you here for?” Keith goads, even though he knows the answer.

“You said I had to get a 90. I got a 98. I think you owe me a kiss for every additional percent I scored.” Lance leaned low, his lips dangerously close to Keith’s.

And Keith knows that they need to talk about this, that they need to establish what’s going on. But they’re stuck together for the foreseeable future, he figures, they’ll have plenty of time to discuss it later. Plus, it would be nearly impossible for him to not rise to Lance’s flirting.

“You only want eight kisses?” Keith teased, leaning in just the tiniest bit closer. His heart was nearly exploding in his chest, but he managed to hold his composure by the grace of some god. “That’s a shame, because I was planning on giving you more.”

“Such a tease, Kogane.” Lance murmured so quietly, so intimately, it sent a shiver down Keith’s spine.

“Not a tease if I back it up.” Keith barely finished speaking the words before he was leaning in and capturing Lance’s lips again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter left! I'm hoping to post it tomorrow so this fic can be finished and I can focus more on my other two. Thank you guys for coming this far with me on this fic! I hope you enjoyed this chapter ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for going on this ride for me! I started this fic as something silly and fun on the side and the warm response you guys gave it turned it into something so much more than that. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart!!!!

Time had become completely meaningless. Even with their online class schedules, time was starting to escape both of them. It became harder to remember which day was which, when assignments were due. Not that either of them really minded, honestly. They were both perfectly content in their own little oasis, riding out the virus and spending their time together.

When Keith blinked his eyes open groggily, he was almost surprised to find that it was pitch black outside. His back ached as he tried to piece together where he was and what he’d been doing. Carefully, he started to sit up, realizing that he was in the family room, sprawled out over the couch, TV playing the end credits to a movie. It was starting to come back to him. He and Lance had settled down for some  _ quarantine and chill _ — he’d forever hate that name for it, no matter how much he enjoyed actually participating in it— and apparently they’d both fallen asleep. Or, well, Keith had. Lance—

Oh.

Lance was sleeping peacefully alongside Keith, head pillowed on Keith’s chest. Keith’s foggy sleep brain caught up with him just in time to still his movements, preventing him from shifting and dislodging Lance from his spot. 

Keith glanced down at the head on his chest and slowly leaned back into the couch. His back still hurt, but that didn’t matter. What mattered right now— and always, always,  _ always _ — was Lance. Keith shifted as much as he could underneath Lance, trying to get a flatter position to help his spine and to free his arm so he could snake it around Lance’s waist and pull him closer. Lance groaned as Keith moved, a hand fisting in the front of Keith’s shirt and pulling, as if he could somehow fuse the two of them into a singular being. Keith wondered what that would be like.

“Pillows aren’t supposed to  _ move _ .” Lance grumbled, and there was a sleepy soft edge to his voice, a sluggishness to his words that indicated that he’d just woken up. Keith’s heart sped up at the sound of it. 

“Yes, well, I don’t think pillows have spines that can break.” Keith countered, but he didn’t make any additional attempts to move.

Honestly, he didn’t remember how they got in this position. He didn’t mind, not even the slightest bit, he just didn’t remember it. He remembered watching the movie and his eyes feeling heavy but the rest was wrapped in a sleepy fog and he couldn’t quite see through it. 

“Oh, shit.” Lance propped himself up on an elbow, removing his hand from the front of Keith’s shirt. “Are you hurting? I’m sorry. Get comfortable!”

“No,” Keith pressed gently on Lance’s waist with the arm he still had wrapped around him. “Come back.”

“Oh, I’m going to.” Lance promised. “But get comfortable first. I don’t need you squirming again in five minutes.”

With a huff, Keith did as he was instructed, scooting a little further down the couch and fixing his pillows so he could lay much more comfortably. Once he was situated, he indicated for Lance to return and Lance did, no hesitation. He reached across Keith to snag the remote off the table and clicked a few buttons to get a new movie playing. And then his head was back on Keith’s chest, arm thrown over his stomach and legs tangled together. Keith decided immediately that this was bliss.

Also, a little hot. Like, temperature-wise. Lance was a furnace in his own right and Keith was warm-blooded, too. But he could put that aside. Or simply accept the fact that bliss was hot.

“What time is it?” Lance asks after a minute and honestly, Keith had been wondering the same thing.

He reaches over to the table himself now, tapping his phone screen until it lights up. “Just after one.”

“In the morning?” Lance yawns.

Keith sends him an unimpressed look. “It’s dark outside, what do you think?”

With a scowl, Lance smacks his chest. “Don’t be a jerk.”

“Don’t ask stupid questions.” Keith countered easily, but there was no hostility in it. 

It didn’t stop Lance from glowering, though, sinking his head lower into Keith’s chest and ducking so Keith couldn’t even hope to see his eyes. Keith didn’t say anything, Ever since their kiss a few days ago, they’d been sort of dancing around the issue at hand, It seemed like it was obvious— there’d been plenty more kissing and obviously cuddling— but it hadn’t been explicitly said. And Keith was fine with the kissing and the cuddling and the everything. But he wanted it to be explicitly said. He had a hard time trusting people— something Lance had picked up on right off the bat— and even though it  _ seemed _ incredibly obvious, part of him worried that he was misreading things, that he was assuming things he shouldn’t be assuming. 

“Hey, Lance.” Keith murmured quietly, tilting his head so his lips were brushing the crown of Lance’s head.

Lance responded by burrowing his head deeper into Keith’s chest, letting out a sort of hum that indicated he was listening, but also made it clear that he was already back on the edges of sleep. And just like that, Keith knew that this wasn’t the time. His heart sunk a little in his chest, but he ignored it— ignored the way he felt like he was missing his chance more and more with each passing day that they didn’t talk about it. He worried that Lance thought this was something casual and fun. He worried that Lance thought that  _ Keith _ only saw this as something casual and fun. Basically, he just worried in general.

“We should probably go to bed.” Keith said instead, doing his best to keep his voice low and steady.

“But we just started the movie,” Lance protested weakly, his voice already softening with sleepiness.

Keith felt the fondness well up inside of him. It had been hard for him to let down his guard and to let Lance in, but Lance— Lance didn’t have walls. He’d been more than willing to escort Keith straight to the depths of his heart with absolutely no trouble. He’d had no problem trusting Keith, embarrassing himself in front of Keith, and just enjoying Keith’s company. It was that fact— among others— that made Lance borderline intoxicating. Keith couldn’t help but get swept up away in him, couldn’t stop his heart from longing for Lance from the very beginning. Lance was warm and welcoming and all the things that were opposite of Keith but matched him perfectly.

“We did,” Keith murmured in agreement, his words nearly lost in Lance’s hair. “But you’re already falling back asleep. And my back won’t forgive me for sleeping on the couch all night.”

“How old are you again?” Lance jested, pressing back up into a half sitting position, one arm holding him up and the other hand covering his mouth to stifle a yawn.

This time, it was Keith’s turn to give Lance a whack, grumbling at his laughter as he slid off the couch. He stood, stretching his back as he did so and pausing when he felt Lance’s fingers ghost across the exposed flesh at the small of his back. Lance made a happy noise of approval before standing up, too, his fingers splaying out against Keith’s hip and drawing him closer to press a kiss to his lips.

And it was great, it was really great and Keith loved it.

But god, he wanted the  _ world _ to know that Lance was his.

Not that they could even go out in the world at the current moment, but the sentiment remained the same. 

Still, Keith kissed back, a hand finding Lance’s shoulder and grounding him against Lance. There was a fluttering in his stomach that felt almost like  _ love _ and Keith tried to swallow against it, begging himself to get lost in the feeling of Lance’s mouth instead of the thoughts in his own mind. 

“Fine,” Lance mumbled as he finally pulled away, his warm hand moving from Keith’s hip to tangle their fingers together, giving him a gentle tug and leading him towards the stairs. “Sleep now.”

Keith allowed himself to be led to the stairs, stumbling up behind Lance when neither of them moved to disentangle their hands. Lance paused at the top of the stairs, Keith pausing on the very last step before racing the top, and glanced over his shoulder to smile at Keith. And then— and then he squeezed Keith’s hand firmer, indicating clearly that he had no intention of letting go as he turned and headed towards his room, ensuring that Keith came in tow.

“But my room is—” Keith started to say, trying to indicate with his free hand as he followed Lance down the still dark hallway.

“Not where you’ll be sleeping tonight,” Lance finished for him, pushing open the door to his room and clicking on the light.

Any response Keith could’ve possibly come up with died on his tongue when Lance turned around, grabbing Keith’s second hand and started to slowly back towards the bed, step by step, Keith coming along with him. The back of Lance’s knees hit the bed and he fell unceremoniously to the bed, still graceful somehow, pulling Keith with him until Keith had no choice but to pull his hands away from Lance, quickly bracing them on either side of Lance’s head to stop himself from crashing completely into Lance.

And then Lance was just laying there, underneath him, hair fanning out around him as much as it could with its short length. And then Lance was just  _ there _ ,  _ underneath him _ , looking up at him with lidded blue eyes and Keith swallowed against a dry throat. 

“Okay,” He said shakily after a moment, feeling his arms wobble under the weight of his body as Lance reached up to thread his fingers into the hair at the nape of Keith’s neck. “I’ll sleep here tonight.”

Lance pressed gently on the back of Keith’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss and Keith was putty in Lance’s hands, pliable and easily swayed. He went willingly, kissing Lance’s lips with a mixture of both fervor and adoration. Lance was equally pliable, soft under Keith’s fingers and opening up to him the way he had from the very beginning. Lance shifts, drawing Keith closer and Keith was powerless to stop himself from dropping down onto his elbows and then onto Lance completely, their bodies flush together. 

It was  _ amazing _ , but it wasn’t enough. 

Because this meant something to Keith, meant something wildly important to Keith and he couldn’t— 

He couldn’t go on like this without telling Lance.

“Lance,” Keith pulled away, relishing in the way Lance still chased after his lips, squeezing in a few more kisses when he could. “Wait, Wait, I—” he paused. Took a deep breath. The nerves were there, making him shakier than he already was. He could drop it if he wanted to. He could brush it aside and pretend that he changed his mind and go back to kissing Lance. Lance would let him get away with that, he was certain of it. But he  _ couldn’t _ . “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Woah.

He did  _ not _ mean to go that far. Immediately, Keith was back up, pressing back onto his elbows and then to his hands, retreating so fast Lance barely had a chance to catch him and hold him in place. 

But Lance  _ did _ catch him, fingers snagging his belt loops and stopping him from climbing off the bed completely. Lance did catch him, and then he smiled up at him, blue eyes shining in the light that was nowhere near as bright as the smile that was breaking out across his face. “Well that’s great news,” Lance replied and he sounded breathless. But not in the post-kissing kind of way. He sounded breathless like he was euphoric, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just been told. He was breathless like he’d just heard everything he’d ever wanted to hear. “Because I  _ know _ that I’m falling in love with you.”

Right away, Lance was tugging on Keith’s belt loops, but Keith wouldn’t be budged. His mind was lagging, reeling, trying to make sense of the thing he’d just heard. “I’m sorry, you  _ what _ ?”

At that, Lance laughed, relenting on his tugging but not letting go of Keith. “Is that so hard to believe? I’m the one who asked for the first kiss, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.” Keith agreed, shifting so he was kneeling on the bed instead of having one foot on the ground. “But then we just… never talked about it? So I— I was worried—”

“You know,  _ we _ never talked about it means that  _ you _ never brought it up, either.” Lance chided kindly. “I didn’t want to push you because I had no idea how you felt at first. And then, the longer it went on…”

“The harder it got to bring up.” Keith finished for him, his own sentiments from earlier reflected in Lance’s expression.

Lance scooted to the side, making room for Keith to lay down next to him. Keith took the offered spot, climbing over Lance’s leg and flopping down onto his side, facing Lance. For a moment, the two of them just looked at each other, their confessions hanging in the air between them.

And then, suddenly, Lance started laughing. It wasn’t unkind at all— in fact, it was warm and sweet and it made Keith smile despite himself. “We’re so stupid.” Lance laughed, a hand finding the side of Keith’s face and caressing his cheek gently. “I was really worried that we were going to return to school and go back to never interacting.”

“Well that’s just ridiculous,” Keith teased, tilting his head so Lance’s hand fit more snugly against his cheek. “We’re obviously not going back to school anytime soon.”

Lance laughed again, scooting closer so his legs were brushing against Keith’s. And then he was tangling them with Keith’s, “You’re not wrong.” Lance agreed, “But you are stupid.”

“I’m getting way better grades than you.” Keith jested immediately. 

He felt light inside. He felt the way Lance had looked earlier— like he was living in the sort of moment he didn’t think could ever actually be his life. He had been given literally everything he’d spent the last few days wanting, pining after, dreaming of. Lance was smiling at him, still brighter than the sun on the hottest day, and Keith took a moment to think that nothing could be better than this right here. There wasn’t a second he could imagine being more meaningful than, more perfect.

“That is absolutely untrue!” Lance cried, pulling his hand away from Keith immediately. “We are  _ both _ getting excellent grades!”

“Only cause I make you study.” Keith moved closer to Lance this time, following the hand that was no longer on his cheek. “You’d never focus if it wasn’t for me.”

“Hah!” Lance cried, settling his hand on Keith’s hip this time. “You were the reason I  _ couldn’t _ focus. Are you kidding? I just kept looking at your lips and wondering what it was like to kiss you.”

“You can’t just say shit like that!” Keith buried his face in his hands, feeling the heat pool to his cheeks. 

“Sometimes,” Lance continued, “You’d run your hands through your hair, pushing it off your forehead… I’m amazed you never caught me staring because it had to be so  _ obvious _ .”

“What did I just say?” Keith shut his eyes tightly, feeling his heart rate spiking. “You can’t talk like that!”

“You know, there’s one easy way to make me stop talking….” There was a flirty lilt to Lance’s voice that made Keith peek out from behind his hands.

“And I’m more than happy to oblige,” Finally, Keith moved his hands away from his face, but he didn’t immediately reach for Lance. “But first, there’s one more thing.” Lance was staring at him, enraptured, his entire focus on Keith and only Keith. Keith’s heart, still racing in his chest, grew at the sight. “Lance, will you be my boyfriend?”

“It took you long enough to ask.” Lance teased, but his smile was borderline watery and his eyes were somehow shining brighter than they were before. “But yes, I’d love to be.”

And that was all Keith needed to hear before shutting Lance up with more kisses, pulling Lance until they were flush against each other for the second time. It was the middle of the night and they should be sleeping, but Keith didn’t care. Time had become meaningless in quarantine anyways. But even if it hadn’t, Keith would be more than willing to lose a night— or a hundred nights— of sleep kissing Lance. And as he threaded his fingers into Lance’s hair, he lost all sense of anything that wasn’t Lance.

And he loved it.

Quarantine so far had been a lot of things that Keith hadn’t expected, but all of them had been good. And now it was going to offer him the opportunity to continue to get closer with his boyfriend.

His  _ boyfriend _ .

  
Keith smiled into the kiss and he could swear he felt Lance smiling back. And in that moment, Keith knew that everything was going to be perfect for as long as he and Lance were together. And then Lance pulled away to murmur a quiet ‘ _ I love you _ ’ and Keith knew that they were going to be together forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that this fic is done, I plan to update my two other chaptered fics. But I am also starting an interactive Klance fic! What I mean by that is that you guys get to choose a lot of what happens! I am currently running polls on my instagram to decide the plot and in the future I'll be running polls that let you guys decide the route the plot takes! So if being involved in the decision making process of one of my fics interests you, feel free to come find me on instagram and get your vote counted!!! Same username as here!


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